Braiding Sweetgrass

Maple Nation. Kerm would probably answer with two terse words of
resentment: pay taxes. And he’s right, being a citizen does mean
sharing in the support of your community.
Here it is, almost tax day, when my fellow humans are getting
ready to make their contribution to the well-being of the community,
but the maples have been giving all year long. Their contribution of
limb wood kept my old neighbor Mr. Keller’s house warm all winter
when he couldn’t pay the oil bill. The volunteer fire department and
the ambulance squad as well rely on maple contributions to their
monthly pancake breakfast, to raise funds for a new engine. The
trees make a real dent in the energy bill for the school with their
shade, and, thanks to big canopies of maples, nobody I know ever
pays a bill for air-conditioning. They donate shade to the Memorial
Day parade every year without even being asked. If it weren’t for
the maples’ ability to break the wind, the highway department would
have to plow snowdrifts off the road twice as often.
Both of my parents have been active in their town government
for years, so I’ve seen firsthand how stewardship of a community
happens. “Good communities don’t make themselves,” my dad
said. “We’ve got a lot to be grateful for, and we all have to do our
part to keep it going.” He just retired as town supervisor. My mom
is on the zoning board. From them I learned that town government
is invisible to most citizens, which is perhaps as it should be—
necessary services are delivered so smoothly that folks just take
them for granted. The roads get plowed, the water is kept clean,
the parks are kept up, and the new senior citizens center finally got
built, all without much fanfare. Most people are indifferent, unless
their self-interest is at stake. Then there are the chronic
complainers, always on the phone to contest the tax levy, and also
on the phone to object to cutbacks when the same tax levies fail.